


The Deprived and Depraved

by didyougetmysteriousmessages



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Drama, F/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8648620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didyougetmysteriousmessages/pseuds/didyougetmysteriousmessages
Summary: (( I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this or if it's a one-shot, but there's implied rape and implied torture, so I've tagged it as such and will warn you now ahead of time. There is no graphic description but it is implied.//writes this in response to a tumblr ask instead of continuing my V fanfic OTL ))





	

**Author's Note:**

> (( I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this or if it's a one-shot, but there's implied rape and implied torture, so I've tagged it as such and will warn you now ahead of time. There is no graphic description but it is implied.
> 
> //writes this in response to a tumblr ask instead of continuing my V fanfic OTL ))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not stand at my grave and weep  
> I am not there; I do not sleep.  
> I am a thousand winds that blow,  
> I am the diamond glints on snow,  
> I am the sun on ripened grain,  
> I am the gentle autumn rain.  
> When you awaken in the morning's hush  
> I am the swift uplifting rush  
> Of quiet birds in circled flight.  
> I am the soft stars that shine at night.  
> Do not stand at my grave and cry,  
> I am not there; I did not die.
> 
> -Mary Elizabeth Frye

This was never supposed to happen. 

The shit with Mint Eye was _over_. Saeran wasn’t sure if the first half or the second half of his life had been worse. Living with that _woman_ was a world he had nightmares about, that he prayed he’d never have to live again. Rika’s treatment of him was no better. She’d been his surrogate mother, a desperate attempt to latch on to one last shred of love, but her love was so dark and twisted that it left him broken. 

But you? You had been the exception. 

The light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. 

You had waltzed into their headquarters, helping your friend Seven save his brother out of the goodness of your heart. He remembered picking you out of the crowd, leading you to that apartment to do his bidding. He was so strung up on the drugs ME had given him that he hadn’t even noticed your smile, or that kind look in your eye, but after he’d tried to take you in the apartment only to be stopped by his brother, everything changed. 

Saeyoung challenged the narrative he’d held onto for so long, the one that promised him revenge finally after years of suffering. He started breaking, his false persona crumbling under the weight of truth.And you had waltzed into their headquarters, that same bright hope in your eyes, determined to save him from himself. 

He saw you differently from then on. 

The road to recovery after he was pulled from the rubble of that damned place had been long and winding. With the support of you and his brother, he had gradually come to terms with what had happened to him. He finally started feeling like he could be himself, with no consequence or terrible, evil thing waiting around the corner to break him down again. 

He had mustered up the courage to confess to you how your eyes made him feel like he was melting under the sun, how your touch had awoken a part of himself he didn’t know he was capable of. And everything blossomed tenfold when you smiled with your gentle, kind lips, reaching out to him and holding him close, returning his feelings. He never knew he could be capable of this much love, but it flowed out of him like a river, endlessly. It washed away all of his doubt. The pain was still there, but the love soothed it to an aching, dull throb, in comparison to the needles he was used to. You were his miracle.

All of that. All of that flashed in his mind when they find your car, crumpled against a large oak tree. You had gone out for a midnight run to the store to get pads (you had run out and, trust me, you needed them desperately). He wanted to go in your place, but you insisted it wouldn’t take long. He was tired and had fallen asleep, not staying up to hear your return. He regretted it. 

It wasn’t enough of a crash to kill you. The air bag had clearly saved your life. So where was your body?

Where were you?

The police couldn’t figure it out. For all intents and purposes, you should have been found, injured but alive, in the drivers seat of that car. But you had gotten out of it, at some point, and you hadn’t returned. What made you crash? There were tire tracks on the road. Was it reckless driving? What made you scurry out of your car, tearing your clothes on the broken glass?

 

What made you run?

 

He agonized over it for hours. Saeyoung could do nothing to comfort him, so instead he helped his brother. They poured over the texts you had gotten, emails, anything, trying to find any traces that you had been hunted, but he found nothing. 

He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. Not until he found you. He was ragged and crazed, devolving back into the old shell of his weak, fearful, furious self.

Suddenly, two days after it happened, when the weight of your disappearance weighed even heavier on his shoulders, he managed to tap into the security tape. 

It had happened right on a bridge close to the highway. There was a camera placed on a speedometer on the road to catch people speeding through the busy thoroughfare. Additionally, there were cameras at the intersection on the same road and at the store you’d made a stop at. And at midnight that night, something strange had happened. 

Your car arrived safely at the store, and after about fifteen minutes, you exited, holding a bag filled with items. There was almost nobody else in the parking lot, but there was a noticeably a black van parked in the corner. A group of men hovered around it, eyeing you. 

No. 

You made your way to your car. You haven’t noticed them yet. They started following you. 

No. 

You suddenly noticed them, freezing at first, then you made a run for it. You sprinted to your car, the men chasing after you and hollering. You managed to get into your car before they get to you and turn the ignition. They’re backpedaling now, racing to their van as you screech out of the parking spot. They’re on your tail in an instant, chasing after you.

_No._

They chased you down the street, throwing something at your car. You swerved a little, trying to stay in the lane, but they sped up next to you and slammed their van into your little car. You swerved some more. 

**_No._ **

They had hit you one last time, sending you careening into the tree. Their van whipped past, but it came to an abrupt halt, tires screeching on the street as they slammed on the breaks. 

**_nonononono_ **

You struggled out of the wreckage, falling down on your knees, and made a desperate attempt to run, but it looked like your leg was damaged. The van’s turned around now, making its way over to you. The men poured out of the car. 

**_NONONONONONO_ **

They grabbed you by the hair, kicking and clawing at you. Your mouth opened in a scream, and although the video feed was silent, Saeran could feel your scream pierce his heart. They dragged you back towards the van, kicking and screaming. The van whipped around, shooting off into the night without another trace. 

**_“NO!!”_ **

He screamed at the top of his lungs, slamming his fists onto the table and shoving almost everything on the desk onto the floor. He threw his chair at the wall, wailing, tears streaming down his eyes. 

He’d given those fuckers two days with you, helpless. Two days, alone.

Seven came rushing into the room, his eyes wide with concern, as Saeran panted among the wreckage. The computer was still safe on the desk, otherwise cleared of its contents. 

Seven seemed just as ragged as Saeran. You were his close friend, perhaps one of the most important people to him aside from Saeran. He blamed himself for your disappearance just as much as Saeran seemed to blame himself as well. That was something the Choi brothers shared. For a moment, Saeran felt a sense of ease that his brother had been working so hard for his sake, and for your sake, but the knowledge of your fate weighed heavily on him.

“Did you find her?” Seven asked tautly. 

Saeran pointed to the screen with a shaky finger, his breath coming out ragged. Seven glanced over the footage, eyes darkening. “We’ll find her,” he stated before rushing out of the room again. 

Saeran sat down on the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs and burrowing his face into his knees as he cried. _What the fuck did she ever do to deserve this?_ He gritted his teeth, balling his hands up and hitting himself with his fist repeatedly. _This is your fault. You should have known. You should have known that the world was too cruel to leave her alone. You should have protected her._

In about thirty minutes, Seven came back into the room, holding a tablet in one hand and his keys in the other. “Get up,” he said shortly. Saeran looked up at him with puffy, red eyes. “I traced the location of the vehicle based on traffic cams and satellite images. I know where they’re keeping her.”

Saeran stared at him blankly, shocked, before jumping to his feet. “Is she alive?” he gasped. “I don’t know,” Seven admitted, looking away. “But I think there’s a good chance she might be. They’ve been holed up in the same location since the accident.”

Saeran gripped his fists. _Having fun, are they?_

“Then let’s go,” he said sharply, leading the way. “I won’t give them another moment to hurt her. Did you bring any weapons?”

“They’re in the trunk,” Seven replied, following him. They made their way to one of his cars. 

Seven unlocked his car and they both leapt inside, speeding out of the garage and down the street. Saeran drifted in and out of sleep. He’d been going on low energy while he searched for you, but now that he knew her location, he allowed himself to rest in order to regain his strength. He had a lot of work to do, and a lot of new holes to punch through people. 

In about 12 hours, they’d arrived at the place, a small and isolated shack on a random side road. The black van was parked out front, glistening in the moonlight. 

Seven and Saeran opened the trunk, grabbing the guns and loading their ammo. Saeran wrapped the ammo packs around his waist, pausing before grabbing a long hunting knife. He slung the gun around his shoulder, waving the knife in the air. Moonbeams glinted off of its sheer surface.

“You’re gonna lead with that?” Seven asked. “I have the gun for backup,” Saeran replied shortly, gripping the knife. “I want them to feel pain.” Seven cocked his gun. 

“Give me a bit to do some recon. I need to find out where they’re keeping MC,” Seven ordered, glancing over at the shack. Saeran gave him a look of utter disgust and disapproval, but Seven continued, “They could have her compromised, or they could try to hold her at gunpoint if we rush in. We need to get our bearings and make sure we’re striking at the right time.” “Fine,” Saeran hissed. “As quickly as possible.”

They approached the house, hiding under the cover of the trees, and Seven said, “Wait here,” before disappearing into the distance, rounding the corner of the shack.

Saeran waited, his hands itching with anticipation. He wanted to knock down the door that instant and slit all of their throats, but Seven was right about waiting. He needed to make sure you were safe. He needed you to be safe. 

Time slowed. The crickets seemed like a choir of hellish angels, chirping long and unabated into the night air. The wind rustled the trees, making him feel uneasy. After what seemed like years, Seven finally returned, his dark shadow growing larger until it was finally by Saeran. 

“I know where she is. We can enter from the back. There’s no alarm system.”

That’s all Saeran needed to hear. “Lead the way.”

As the two brothers made their way towards the dark house, Saeran steeled himself for a fight. He was going to make sure those fuckers paid for whatever they did to you. And he was going to enjoy every goddamn minute of it. 

He grinned menacingly, eyes sparkling under the stars. He didn’t think he’d ever have to shed blood again, but he was glad at the opportunity to enact some justice. They would rue the day they had dragged you from that broken car. He would drag their broken bodies to their graves, relishing in their screams all the way. 


End file.
